Movie Night
by 123Rainstar123
Summary: What's the best way to spend your day off? Watching movies, of course! And that's exactly what Bulma is going to do. It's her first day off in over a month and she's determined to make it the best, movie-filled day ever! ...But, there's a certain Saiyan Prince that has to be accounted for... V/B Mysterious 3 years...how original...


**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, or Dragon Ball GT in any way, shape, or form. It belongs to Akira Toriyama-sensei.**

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Bulma spread the fuzzy pink blanket on the living room floor, smoothing it out over the carpet. She then proceeded to toss an assortment of pillows and smaller blankets onto the outspread as she hummed one of her favorite songs. The blue-haired heiress clapped her hands together to shake off the pretend dust and waltzed out of the living room and into the kitchen, mumbling the lyrics of the song.

It was her first official "day off" in over a month. With work at Capsule Corp, worrying about the oncoming threat of the Androids in roughly a year or so, and tending to the quote unquote "mighty Prince of All Saiyans"—she would always say this to herself with a poor impersonation of said Prince—and his needs, life had been stressful. But now, today was the day all to herself, and she planned to make the most of it.

And what better way, she grinned, to spend a day off by watching movies?

Bulma strolled over to the pantry and grabbed an variety of snacks and candies—from Trail Mix to M&Ms to Doritos to Potato Chips to Butterfingers to anything that involved chocolate—and of course—the mother of all movies snacks—popcorn.

She grabbed a couple bags of the delicious, buttery treat and stacked them on the counter by the microwave. Bulma popped the first one into the microwave, pressed the _Popcorn_ button, and waited by it, singing a few words of the song louder than others.

What made things better is that she had the whole house to herself for her parents were out of town—

"Woman!"

Oh, yeah, there was somebody else still here…

"Woman!"

"What, Vegeta?!"

The Saiyan stormed into the kitchen, a towel draped over his shoulders. Vegeta wore his dark blue spandex training shorts and black sneakers. Faint beads of sweat decorated his skin…along with some ragged scars. "Woman," he growled, "I require nourishment right this insta—" He cut himself when he saw her standing by that…that…micro-what's-it.

Her turquoise hair wasn't done up or fancied like she always did before work, but simply straight, hanging down to the base of her neck. No makeup donned her face—no lipstick, no eye shadow, revealing her natural beauty that he had been… "noticing" for awhile now. Instead of her business attire or even a simple getup of a t-shirt and sweatpants, she wore her pink—_uuuugh, pink!_—nightgown that reached her thin ankles.

Vegeta blinked and shook his head, sending a few droplets of sweat flying. _Stop staring…_

Bulma blinked as well. Things had been a bit, for lack of better word, _different_ between them ever since they kissed. He'd been less irritable and demanding of her—well, not counting when he was hungry or ticked off—for the past few weeks. Bulma, she reluctantly admitted to herself, didn't, well, blow up at him every 5 seconds since then.

She faintly shook her head, clearing her mind of those thoughts, and scowled softly. "Order takeout then."

Vegeta scowled back and crossed his arms. "No. The last time I did that, the food was cold."

"Ever thought about heating it up in the microwave?"

"I expect food that's hot and ready, _not_ right out of the freezer!"

Bulma rolled her eyes at him. "Well then…" The heiress causally walked back over to the pantry. Vegeta cocked his head curiously. "Here, have some ramen." She chucked the package of beef-flavored ramen at the Saiyan.

It hit him in the forehead, but, he still caught it.

"Tch," Vegeta snorted, examining the little parcel.

"Just put some water into a pot on the stove, wait 'til the water boils, then put the noodles in and wait for 3 minutes. Simple!" Vegeta looked back at the aqua-haired woman and scowled. The warm, buttery scent of the popcorn hit his nostrils and he sniffed. Now _that_ smelled good.

"What are _you_ doing, Woman?" he demanded, his interest piqued at the intoxicating scent.

"Huh? Oh! I'm making popcorn," she explained, sounding rather proud, like it was an accomplishment. …Typical Woman…

Vegeta arched a thick eyebrow. "Why?"

"_Because!_" Bulma said, clasping her hands together. "It's my first day off in over _a month_ and I'm going to make the most of it! I'm going to watch movies _all day long._" The Saiyan Prince blinked and frowned. Earthling customs…

"Don't you have anything better to do?"

Bulma scowled, "Do _you_?"

Vegeta scowled back at her. "Yes, yes I do. I have better things to _do_ than watch your stupid movies all day long." The Saiyan Prince marched over to the adjacent cabinets. "…Now where the heck are those dang pots!" he hissed in frustration, rummaging through the cupboards.

"Mom must've moved them…" Bulma muttered absentmindedly, dismissing the Saiyan's grouchiness and focusing on the beeping microwave. "Aha! Done!" She pressed a large, rectangular button and the door popped open. She took the microwave's contents out and carefully gripped the folds on the top of the paper bag. Bulma gave a gentle tug—a soft _rip!_—and the bag opened; she repeated it on the opposite corners. Vegeta watched with interest. The heiress dumped the snack into a plastic bowl.

An invisible cloud of the buttery scent filled the room, making the Saiyan Prince's mouth water. Beef-flavored noodles…or butter-scented, salty puffballs…? Vegeta swallowed slowly, simply mesmerized by the popcorn's scent, and tentatively reached his hand over to the popcorn bowl.

A creamy hand lightly smacked at his tanned one. Vegeta's hand jerked back at the sudden slap and looked over, surprised, at the owner of the hand.

"Nah ah ah!" Bulma scolded him, shaking her forefinger at him. "Popcorn's for movie time _only_. Besides, weren't you having ramen?"

Vegeta blinked and then scowled softly, growling. He crossed his arms over his sweat-soaked chest and glared at the floor, as if pouting at being caught in the act.

She laughed. "'Geta…"

His head snapped back to his left and was about to chew her out for calling him by _that_ _stupid nickname_…but then he saw what she was holding in her hand. A handful of popcorn—it seemed to almost _glow_. He blinked for the umpteenth time.

"Well?" Bulma prompted, holding the popcorn out to him. Hesitantly, Vegeta accepted the offering and examined it for a moment before stuffing it into his mouth. "Whoa! Don't wolf it down!"

"Hn," he merely grunted, chewing the popcorn. Oh…oh wow…this taste…it made his taste buds sing…! Vegeta reluctantly swallowed it, holding onto the taste in his mouth. He ran his tongue over his pearly, white teeth—they gleamed in the kitchen light.

"So? How'd it taste?"

_Amazing, _Vegeta thought. "…Adequate," Vegeta said.

Bulma chuckled a bit, a warm smile pulling on the corners of her mouth, and she rolled her cobalt eyes. "Well, alright, I suppose not everybody likes popcorn." She put another bag into the microwave and waited. The bag was slowly rotating in the small window; the microwave made a soft, continuous _vvv_ sound. Vegeta watched it, transfixed, and so did Bulma. She sighed.

The woman then moved to one of the cabinets, and she took out a small pot for the ramen. "Here's the pot for your ramen," she said, setting it on the stovetop.

Vegeta blinked and turned his head to stare at the pot, his eyes distant. The dark orbs then shifted to her slender figure, and he said, "I'm not hungry."

And with that, he was gone.

Bulma huffed in frustration, placing her hands on her hips, and scowled.

"What a strange man."

The microwave beeped as if to agree with her.

…

Meanwhile, in the Gravity Room…

The strain on Vegeta's body was close to unbearable, but, being the almighty Saiyan that he was, pushed through the pain and continued to train past his limitations. Beads of perspiration from his skin flew and fell like salty raindrops down to the tiled flooring, littering it with darker, wet spots. The red lights of the room bathed his muscled form in their glaring light, and they made him feel that all his past enemies were sending scathing glares at him, hatred burning in their eyes.

He paid it no heed; it only made him push himself harder.

Vegeta sent a _ki_ blast at one of the bots that floated about the air, beeping at a high pitched noise—high enough to give him a slight headache. The material on the bot bounced the ball of energy towards another one, and the latter sent it to another; the process would repeat. The Saiyan Prince glared threateningly at the bots that seemed to be toying around with him, daring them to send it at him.

As if reading his mind, a training bot suddenly bopped the _ki_ ball him, the burning energy hurtling like a bullet towards him. Vegeta gracefully dodged the ball; he inwardly prided himself for it.

The victory was short-lived for a bot behind him caught the ball and chucked it back. Vegeta was lucky enough to see it coming, and he slipped past the energy's grasp. The insane procedure would reoccur once more, and Vegeta found himself evading an attack every thirty seconds.

His muscles screamed at him in protest and his bones groaned from the pressure of the high gravity. Vegeta clenched his jaw and squeezed one of his eyes shut, attempting to ignore the oncoming pain.

_I…I can _do_ this…!_

The energy ball grazed his shoulder, slightly burning his skin, and he flinched, much to his chagrin. The ball whizzed by him again and again, not even stopping to let him catch his breath.

Vegeta grunted, his sweaty body struggling to stay afloat. _Don't be weak,_ a voice in his head shouted. _You are the Prince of all Saiyans! This should be easy! Don't you remember?! Kakarot has surpassed you! He's a Super Saiyan! You're not!_

"I…I am…" the Saiyan rasped.

_You are _no _Super Saiyan!_

"Shut up!" he spat.

Vegeta was able to snap himself out of it just to see the _ki_ ball of his own creation speeding towards him in peripheral vision. The dethroned prince managed to reel his body back in time to dodge it; however, he was unable to stop himself from falling flat on his back.

The air left his lungs swiftly, and he gasped, desperately sucking the oxygen back in.

The _ki_ was whirling back and forth, like the bots where playing their own game of ball, and one bot blasted the ball towards the fallen warrior. Vegeta inhaled sharply and crossed his arms in front of his face on instinct.

Energy collided with his arms and exploded.

When the smoke cleared, it revealed Vegeta in the same position, burn marks on his arms.

He groaned softly, and he let his arms fall to the floor—they landed harder than normal. _Ow…_ And thus, the prince lied sprawled out across the Gravity Room's floor, panting, his breaths ragged. The intensive gravity felt like it was crushing his internal organs, and, to make matters worse, Vegeta couldn't move much. The accursed gravity was pinning him down to the floor!

The Saiyan growled heatedly and, with the remaining strength he had, hauled himself to his feet, forcing his aching muscles to obey his commands. The prince dragged his feet sluggishly over to the control panel; it took every ounce of willpower he had to _not_ fall flat on his face.

_Almost there…_

Vegeta finally reached the controls and eagerly pressed the off button. The GR powered down, and a cumbersome weight was lifted off of his shoulders—figuratively and literally. A breath of relieved air slid past Vegeta's lips. He slowly sank down to the ground, every bone in his body groaning and every muscle moaning as well, and leaned up against the wall, breathing deeply. He rolled his left shoulder back to ease out the hindering pain and gently massaged his right thigh—Vegeta figured he pulled a muscle there…

Gosh, he was so tired…

The exhausted Saiyan's stomach growled loudly, whining for much needed nourishment. Perhaps, he mused sourly, he should've taken up the woman's offer on the ramen…

Vegeta brought his calloused hands up to his face and rubbed his palms over his sweaty skin, running them down his cheeks. He then closed his eyes, tilting his back so it would rest on the wall. Admittedly, he was rather comfortable right here…

Maybe a little nap…

…

Dark eyes lazily drifted about underneath thick eyelashes, surveying the surroundings.

Huh, so he actually did fall asleep.

Vegeta stretched out his arms, yawning, his pearly white canines glimmering. When he brought his arms down, he absently scratched his stomach. _Grrrrwl…_

Oh, yeah…he was hungry…

The Saiyan sluggishly hauled himself to his feet, grunting when his muscles cried out in protest. He growled in frustration when his knees buckled and he collapsed to the hard, tiled floor. A few choice words streamed out of his mouth when Vegeta pushed himself back upright, snarling indignantly, and he forced his feet to move forwards, heading toward the GR door. The befallen prince crossly pressed the button to open the door and he took a pained step out. Much to his utter horror and chagrin, he tripped.

Down the prince went, tumbling down the ramp and settling in a crumpled heap on the grass.

_Son of a…!_

Vegeta let loose a string of curses at his befuddled state, swearing he would blast any sorry human who saw him fall. His piercing glare swept across the grounds, eyes chips of black ice, and was pleased to see that no one was in sight. He released a sigh of relief.

Grunting, Vegeta heaved his tired and aching body to its feet and hobbled his way over to the Capsule Corp compound, clutching his left shoulder and gritting his teeth. Curse it all…

…And curse it a million times over if the Woman found him in this state.

Finally entering the house through the sliding glass doors, Vegeta sauntered his way through the darkened kitchen—how long had he slept?—and past the living room. The Saiyan noticed that room was dark as well, the only sign of light came from the flashing tele-what's-it.

He scowled with slight disbelief. He had no idea she would _actually _watch movies all day…

Refusing to be seen in such mean estate, Vegeta silently moved through the halls to his own personal quarters to take a much needed shower—or a bath so he wouldn't have to stand…

Then he would feast!

…

After the therapeutic cleansing, Vegeta quickly dried himself off with his _ki_ and threw on a loose fitting shirt and shorts. He, for once, was _dying_ to feel comfortable…weird…

The hungry Saiyan applied any necessary bandages so Bulma wouldn't nag him for not taking care of himself and he bolted out the door, down the hall, and into the kitchen, his stomach howling.

_Food, food, food, food…_

Now, Vegeta reminded himself that he had gone long periods of time without the body's necessities of food and water during his employment under Frieza. Purging could sometimes take away such time for these things. He unknowingly prided himself for it, a Saiyan not falling apart ever time his stomach whined for food—he pointedly thought about Raditz and—…hm…now that he thought about it…Raditz and Kakarot were more alike than he originally thought.

Anyhow, he had been able to survive with little to no food or water. However, since he had come to Earth, that survival tactic had all but dwindled to nothingness, with delicious foods at his every beck and call, he was practically _spoiling_ his stomach.

_Darn it, this place _is_ making me soft…_

Reaching the treasure trove of all things edible, Vegeta grabbed whatever his arms could carry from the pantry and laid them out over the counter. He then proceeded to pig out, stuffing his face with the succulent treats, but not once spilling a single crumb.

The Saiyan finally finished of his gorging, leaning back in the chair and letting a content purr rumble from his chest as he stretched. Ah…

Vegeta sniffed and straightened his posture, running his tongue over his teeth to remove any food residue. He inhaled more sharply through his nose, smelling out the scent of butter and salt. The Saiyan cocked his head curiously and strained his other senses, closing his eyes. He heard something that rumbled like thunder coming from the living room, and a few cries of battle mixed into it. His thick eyebrows knitted in confusion.

What on Earth was that woman watching?

His curiosity getting the best of him, Vegeta removed himself from the chair and quietly padded to the living room, making sure to keep his steps light and his breathing all but nonexistent. He peered into the room, noticing the woman's head and shoulders peeping out of a large assortment of blankets, and he frowned quizzically.

Bulma stared at the TV screen before her, completely absorbed in the action movie to not notice the presence at the entryway. The heiress wasn't usually the one for action movies, but this one happened to have a side of romance in it, so she was fine with it. In addition, Bulma was too lazy to get the remote and switch off the marathon feature.

Wrappings of candy wrappers she had gone through were bunched into a pile near an empty popcorn bowl. A second bowl was strategically placed beside her. She yawned a bit, tiredness creeping up on her, but she refused to slip into slumber.

Bulma blinked in surprise when she felt a warm body press against her left side. She glanced over to her left shoulder, shocked to see Vegeta lying on his stomach next to her. "Oh…Vegeta," she said, "you wanna watch too?"

Vegeta merely grunted, staring at the TV screen in front of them. Bulma sighed and took that as a "yes".

Unwittingly, Vegeta had joined the blue-haired woman in her movie marathon, following his senses as his feet carried him to her side. He had just realized this when she spoke to him, and was unable to come up with a snappy response. He was simply following the smell of popcorn, that's all! …Wasn't he?

The girl turned her attention back to the screen, watching as the credits began to roll upwards. "…The next one should be on soon," Bulma murmured informatively, not sparing him a glance. He grunted in acknowledgement, nodding.

Bulma smiled.

The two watched movies well into the night and the early morning. And, at one point, Vegeta had wrapped his arms around Bulma.

…

Goku arrived the next day at Capsule Corporation, carrying a bag of sugar that his family had borrowed for baking from the Briefs. He confidently let himself in, knowing that he was always welcome in the Briefs home, and called out, "Bulma! Mrs. Briefs! I have the sugar you lent us! Chi-Chi told me to bring it back!" Goku was met with an unusual silence. "Uh…hello?"

Gently setting the sugar on the counter, Goku tramped his way out of the kitchen, searching out for any signs of life in the compound. "Bulma? You here? Vege—" The earthly Saiyan paused at the living room's entry way, picking up on two energies in there. In the room, he noticed both of the two most stubborn people on the whole planet…asleep on the floor. Bulma had snuggled herself up to the Saiyan's body and he, in turn, had his muscular arms circling her tiny frame, his face buried in her hair. Soft snores filled the living room.

Goku grinned ecstatically and fervently tiptoed his way over to them. He took an extra blanket and gingerly draped it around the sleeping couple. The full-blooded Saiyan then scurried silently out of the TV room and towards the front door, and he casually let himself out, whistling nonchalantly once he was outside. Inside, his entire body was bubbly with excitement and hope.

_Gee! If things keep going like this, we'll have a baby Trunks in no time!_

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**Hee. :3 Review! **


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